


only fear inside your head

by Weaseltotheface



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28929375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weaseltotheface/pseuds/Weaseltotheface
Summary: Post 122The nien wake up to Caleb and Beau, standing in the middle of the room. And something is very, very wrong.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 4
Kudos: 213





	only fear inside your head

Yasha is the first one to break the oppressive silence of the room. 

“What-what is happening here?” 

Her eyes bounce between Caleb and Beau, stalk still in the middle of the room - both of them pale and ashen faced in the dim light - and the others, barely awake and bleary eyed. Except for Fjord, the lines of his face deep, brows low. 

Beau cradles her hand to her chest, like a wounded animal, hiding. 

“Fjord, do a sweep. Thorough. Please. I need to know that no one is watching.” 

Her voice shakes in a way none of them are used to. 

Terror has its teeth in her.

“Beau-” Yasha starts but a pleading look from the monk shuts her down. 

“I know, Yash. I just want Fjord to make sure it’s clear first.” 

Beau’s eyes dart around feverishly, like she’s cornered, like she’s hoping to see the invisible threats that only Fjord can see. 

She only calms when Caleb places both hands on her shoulders, stooping slightly to look her in the eye. He speaks softly, Zemnian, and some of the tension lining Beau’s small frame seems to bleed out of her. She nods a few times, and Caleb, in an out of the ordinary display of affection, places a kiss on the crown of Beau’s head. 

Alarm bells blare in Yasha’s head.

Things are wrong. Something’s wrong. 

She makes eye contact with Jester and Veth, bundled in her blankets in her bed.

She wonders if the fear she sees on them is as visible on herself. 

“I was as thorough as I could be. I’m pretty confident we’re not being spied on.” Fjord tells them, his voice low, “Now, let’s hear why you both shot up like you were on fire at the exact same time and started freaking out.” 

Yasha’s eyebrows furrow. 

Steeling herself, she decides to get up from her post at the door and make her way towards Beau in the center of the room, worry obvious in every line of her. Careful, like the monk might spook at the slightest provocation.

Beau locks eyes with her immediately.

“Let me see your hand, Beau.” Yasha’s voice is soft, as it always is, attempting to soothe despite the rapid pace of her heart. 

Beau swallows around nothing, anxiety sapping the moisture from her throat, and nods, letting Yasha pry her left hand from her chest. 

It’s gentle, of course. Like Yasha would be anything less with her. Strong fingers smoothing over hot skin. 

She closes her eyes when Yasha reveals the back of her hand, but she can’t close her ears to the gasp that leaves her throat. 

“I think...we fucked up. Just a little.” 

Red pulses steadily from the eye on her hand. 

Yasha’s grip on Beau’s wrist is hard and clammy. A quiet whine builds in the back of her throat looking at the brand that’s seared itself unbidden into dark skin. 

“Oh...Beau.” 

Yasha’s voice cracks around her name. 

Pale fingers trace the outline of the eye, warm to the touch but the thought of it, of the implications, grows ice in her chest, jagged and sharp and cold. 

“Caleb…?” Veth calls from where she’s huddled with Jester. “What’s happening?” 

He rubs a sweaty palm across his face, letting the weight of it drag the stress lines around his eyes. 

“Things are, ah, getting more complicated.” He replies, lowering his coat slightly over his shoulder, where his eye is glowing brightly red. 

Silence reigns while Caleb pulls his coat back up, palpable and shroud-like, covering them all in tension. 

“We dreamed.” Beau says eventually, finally opening her eyes to look to Caleb. Yasha still standing sentinel by her side, smoothing her thumb over her hand. “Right? You dreamed too?” 

“I did, yes.” 

The other’s look between them, eyes jumping from Beau’s face, to her hand, to Caleb’s face, to the spot he had covered and back again. 

“What...what did you dream…?” Jester’s question is quiet and hesitant in the unbearable tension of the room. 

“The city.” 

They answer at the same time, voices overlapping in a harmony that has never come easy. 

Beau’s face turns ashen again, and Caleb rubs a hand over the covered eye spot on his shoulder. 

“I didn’t like that, guys.” Jester murmurs, face unreadable. 

“Yeah,” Beau chokes out, grabbing Yasha’s hand, “Me neither.” 

“Ok, everyone. Let’s all...start from the beginning maybe.” Caduceus offers, placing a large comforting hand on the backs of both of his distraught friends. 

Beau nods and goes to move over to sit in a chair, cracking a small smile when Yasha refuses to let go of her hand and follows. 

Her brow furrows slightly when Yasha chooses to settle on the floor by her feet rather than stand next to her, but the comforting weight of her against her legs and the warm calloused grasp of her hand keeps her from questioning. 

“Ok, ok. So, you guys were there when we started translating that book.” Beau starts. 

“It was...incredibly interesting,” Caleb continues, shooting a finger gun at Beau when she agrees, “But also...weird.” 

Beau picks it back up, “I don’t know if you noticed but at the end there, there was a page. Just...full of scribbles and patterns.”

“It sucked us right. In. We started at that page for...it had to have been minutes, before Lucien removed it from us.” Caleb sighs, “I think we both knew at that point...maybe we had made a mistake.” 

Beau nods, absentmindedly playing with the fingers of Yasha’s hand, still twined with hers. “Shit happened after that, we didn't really have time to discuss with each other what had happened.” 

Caleb and Beau make eye contact again, considering. 

“We came back here and long story short, we went to sleep and had a dream…” Beau continues, addressing Caleb, “I assume...the same dream?” 

“That is the feeling I got.” 

Caleb rubs a hand over his face again. 

“You heard the cacophony? The screams?” He asks quietly, “You felt the terror?” 

Beau nods, knuckles pale with force where she’s squeezing Yasha’s hand. The barbarian doesn’t flinch, only knocks her head against Beau’s knee.

“Y-you saw the eye? Did it...welcome you?” She rubs her free hand over her sternum, like she can rub away the feeling of it, “Did you feel it connect to you?” 

She watches Caleb flinch minutely, barely a twitch, “Yes. To all of it.” 

“So we had the same dream then. And then we both woke up, terrified at the exact same time.” Beau grinds out, terror bleeding into anger, and grabs her notebook off the desk beside her.

She huffs a scoff of a laugh, derisive, “I tried to write the dream down in my journal and all I got were the same _fucking_ scribbles and nonsense that was in that book.” 

Angrily, she tosses the journal to the floor.

“The worst part is-is that I know how bad this is now and i’m still _so fucking_ curious. I feel like-like we’re so close? We could learn so much?” She looks to Caleb who’s nodding in agreement, “You feel like that too right Caleb? We-” 

She’s cut off by Yasha, tugging her down by her hand and grabbing her chin between a calloused thumb and forefinger. 

“Don’t you _dare_ , read more of that book, Beauregard.” Her voice is low and barely angry, but Beau can see the fear in her eyes, “Staying alive was the bare minimum, you don’t get to just-just...You can’t get sucked into some weird...cult thing...” 

She trails off, breathing shallow and fast, and Beau’s eyes get wide with realization.

“Oh, shit.” She slides down off her chair to kneel in front of Yasha, who’s clutching at her chest now, “Yasha, you’re hyperventilating. You need to calm down a little ok?” 

Quickly, she shoots a glance over her shoulder, “All of you go-go talk in a corner give us some space ok. Ducey, I’ll get you if we need help.” 

“Of course, Beau.” Fjord says, already ushering the others to gather around the bed, but Beau isn’t paying any attention, focused on where Yasha is taking small gasping breaths. 

“I-Im s-s-sorry.” Yasha gasps out around her own rebelling lungs.

Beau’s heart clenches in her chest as she cradles Yasha’s face in her hands, studiously ignoring the bright pulsing light of wrongness branded on her. She let’s her ki loose to connect to the barbarian’s in an attempt to soothe, hoping that the connection to her own would regulate Yasha’s breathing. 

“Oh, Yasha.” She keeps her voice low and calming, well aware that while the others are sequestered, they are not gone. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” 

Yasha opens her mouth to speak again, choking on a gasp before she can.

“Shhhh,” Beau smoothes her thumbs over Yasha’s cheekbones. The skin there is soft and pliant and warm against the sensitive pads of her fingers. “Don’t try to talk, just listen to my voice, match my breathing? Ok, babe? You got this.” 

A tear drips down Yasha’s cheek, quickly swept away by Beau’s roaming thumbs. She hiccups a breath or two, gradually evening out into a normal pattern. 

“I-I’m sorry, I-” Yasha says again, leaning her head farther into Beau’s hands. 

“I told you, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Beau tells her, smoothing locks of white and black hair off her forehead. 

“I...This should be about you right now. You’re the one who’s got this fucking thing on you.” Yasha all but growls, “I didn’t have any right to fall apart like that right now. I’m supposed to be strong for you, for all of you.” 

Beau blinks slowly, processing.

“Yasha...I don’t need you to be strong for me. I just need you to be you. You know? I want you to feel safe, and-and happy.”

“I can’t lose someone I...care about again, Beau. I can’t.” Yasha murmurs softly into Beau’s palm, eyes closed. “Please don’t make me do it again.” 

Beau vaguely registers the icy track of a tear on her cheek through the clenching in her chest. 

“I know. I know.” She runs a hand through Yasha’s hair again, an attempt to soothe the other woman as well as herself, “I can’t lie and say it’s not tempting to learn more. But it is scary. I’m so scared of this, Yash. I don’t want to lose this before we’ve even had a chance to begin it.” 

Yasha presses a lingering kiss to the pulse point in Beau’s wrist, “I don’t want to lose _you_. I want this, us, to go somewhere, Beau. So badly. But _you_ are more important than that.” 

“I’ll do my best. We don’t know what’s going to happen now.” Beau bumps her forehead against Yasha’s, “I assume that...reading more of the book will trigger more of this. More eyes, more dreams. But it might be that every night we’ll dream again. And every night a new eye.” 

She shudders at the thought. 

“I should have realized that reading an evil book was a bad fucking idea.” 

Yasha makes a sound in her throat, vaguely disapproving, “You can’t help your nature, Beau. You did what you’re best at, figuring out a puzzle. We’ll...we’ll figure out how to help you and Caleb. You said it yourself, we’ve destroyed many cults in the past. My own included.” 

Beau nods, places a kiss on Yasha’s forehead, “I know you’ll do whatever you can to help me. You and the Nien.”

She hums in thought for a moment, “We should have made that raft and sailed away on that lava river after all, huh?” 

A laugh forces it’s way out of Yasha’s chest, “Yeah, we-we really should have.” She sighs “I was just joking, but...it was tempting. Even more tempting in hindsight. I wish that bad things would stop happening...just for like, two minutes.” 

Beau swallows around a lump in her throat, glancing up towards where the group is huddled in the corner. Most of them are obviously trying to give them the space they requested, some of them are obviously listening in. 

She pays them no mind. 

“Will...will you hold me tonight? Please?” Beau’s voice is as quiet as she can make it and shakes despite her best efforts. 

“Of course, anything you need, Beau. Anything.” 

Beau smiles and wobbles to her feet. “Are you ok now?” 

Yasha nods, reaching out for Beau’s hand, outstretched to help the large woman to her feet, “Yes. I mean. No not really. But mostly. I’ll get there. We’ll get there.” 

“Ok,” Beau reaches out to brush imaginary dirt off of Yasha’s shirt, 

“We can work with that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i banged this out quick (quick for me at least) and didn't edit it, hope it was ok tho! (it didn't rly go the way i thought it would but that's the price u pay for stream of consciousness writing)


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